


happy the hard way

by Homeistheimpala



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Post Winter Soldier Bucky???, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:38:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2120526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homeistheimpala/pseuds/Homeistheimpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-serum!Steve works at a coffee shop where post Winter Soldier!Bucky is a regular.</p>
            </blockquote>





	happy the hard way

**Author's Note:**

> Before we start, I'd like to thank Prongs, my beta for suffering through late night revisions and correcting me in every way. This fic would be a problematic monster without her!  
> Also coco, for existing with her preserum!steve love and making me actually want to write this.

It wasn’t the light reflecting off his metal arm or even the disturbing amount of black the man was wearing (It was mid-June, for Gods sake). What actually caught Steve’s attention were the man’s eyes, bright and too haunted for someone who looked barely past 25. Steve had spent too long trying to sketch them but had been unable to do them justice.

“The usual?” Steve asked, smiling, and the man nodded. He didn’t do much besides nod and grunt his thanks and shove money that included way too much tip.

Steve rang up the order and by the time he looked up again, the man had sat down at his usual table. Tony had said it was a good vantage point but Steve had absolutely no idea what to do with that information. He carried on with a routine they seemed to have fixed.

The man came in every day that Steve had a shift. Peggy assured him that once the man had figured out Steve’s schedule, he only came in on the days Steve worked. This lead to copious amounts of teasing but really, Steve just thought the man liked to be served by someone who was nice and not an ex-assassin or something. He would order and Steve would get him his order at his table and they would spend the next few hours in relative silence as the man looked over several papers and Steve worked.

Steve was comfortable with this coexistence. The man’s presence grew to be as familiar as Peggy’s or Tony’s.

Which is why his absence sent Steve into a worried frenzy.

In the span of a few hours since he realized the man had not come in, Steve had spilt around a litre of milk, ignored three customers, yelled at two guys and nearly punched another who was harassing a woman.

Natasha all but pushed him out the door.

“Go home.” She snarled.

“What if he’s dead somewhere? His files always had classified stamped all over them!” Steve protested as Natasha yanked him down the street to his apartment.

“Maybe he’s just busy.” she reasoned as she opened his door and -

when the fuck had she gotten a key?

 

-

 

The man came back the next day and it took everything Steve had not to demand where the fuck he’d been. Steve Rogers was not a desperate housewife. Instead, he calmly took his order as the man’s expression grew bewildered. Steve didn’t understand why, he was being perfectly civil. He ignored Clint’s smirks and Natasha’s eyerolling. He didn’t care. The man was practically a stranger. He didn’t care.

After placing the man’s order in front of him, Steve decided to take a break. Besides, it wasn’t like there were any customers besides the man.

He barely got pasted the counter when Natasha cornered him.

“What’s up with you?” She hissed. Steve frowned, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Tall, Dark and Dangerous has been throwing puppy eyes at you the entire evening.”

“Stop exaggerating, Nat, he’s only been here an hour.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“You practically banged his tray on his table!”

Steve shrugged and Natasha sighed loudly.

“Go talk to him.”

“Why, I barely know the guy?”

Natasha continued to sigh loudly until Steve escaped back to the counter. The man was standing there. This was not routine.

“Um, do you need anything else?” Steve asked. The man shook his head.

“Are you alright?” The man asked finally, sounding hesitant. This was not routine.

“I’m fine, why do you ask?” Steve said, shoving tissues into a box. The man didn’t reply but when Steve looked up, he was staring apprehensively at Steve’s hand.

“Sir, do you need anything else?”

The man shook his head and left. Steve sighed and swallowed his disappointment.

 

-

 

The next day was a rough one. Steve felt on edge all day and sneezed about 50 times every 15 minutes. Peggy had banished him to stocking the pantry and keeping away from the customers and exposed food at all times. Steve doesn’t know whether the man showed up or not.

It shouldn’t be, but it was miserable.

So he went back to his empty apartment, fixed dinner and watched the entire first season of Brooklyn 99, ignoring the dread knotting in his stomach. He tried working on another commission piece but really, the feeling wasn’t there.

He woke up feeling much better. He took his pills and made his way to the coffee shop, a lightness in his step that he couldn’t explain. He smiled at customers who grimaced back, his brightness too early for them.

The noisy morning rush faded away into the quiet familiarity of the afternoon regulars.

“Are you humming?” An amused voice asked. Steve jumps to see the man grinning at him slightly, leaning on his metal arm. Steve shrugged and grinned back.

“Same order?” he asked and almost dropped the mug when the man shook his head.

“Give me something sweet. Like rot-your-teeth, give-your-dentist-a-heart-attack sweet.” The man said vaguely.

“You realize you’re asking a diabetic this, right?” Steve said, ringing up the order.

“As if you don’t have the entire menu of this place memorised.”

“Of course, I do. I work here.” Steve said primly, before sticking his tongue out at the man. The laugh came as though it was surprised out of him. Steve looked up and smiled at him until the woman behind the man coughed pointedly.

“Right, you can go sit, I’ll get you your tooth decay when it’s done.”

The man nodded and Steve couldn’t help the furtive glances he spared his way.

 

-

 

During his time working at Peggy’s, Steve had learnt not to ask too many questions. It was hard and pissed Steve off a lot, especially when Natasha disappeared for three weeks or Clint hobbled in, wincing at every moment. But the job was good. The pay was good.

They never lied to him, not really. Just actively avoided the truth. At first, it agitated Steve because he couldn’t really like people he barely knew anything about. But that changed over time. Steve knew that Natasha smacked Clint around a lot but would always play with her arrow necklace whenever Clint was gone. He knew Clint was a sarcastic little shit who sat on pavements and fed stray animals. He knew Peggy always had backup lipstick which she would let Steve borrow to draw. He knew Tony really had no reason to run this coffee shop discreetly because it made average coffee and could be more successful if it had the Stark name on it. Yet Tony insisted on the anonymity and payed Steve way too much.

At first Steve had wondered if it was to make sure he kept his mouth shut. Then he met Pepper and realized Tony just wasn’t even the one writing his checks, technically. Pepper was great, Pepper was all smiles and answers and soft hugs. It was hard to believe that Pepper would lie to him when she told him that the money wasn’t anything special, it’s what they would pay to any other person working at the shop.

Steve had also become used to the fact that no one normal besides him actually worked at the shop. By normal, he meant not a- whatever they were.

Of course, early on, Steve had gone looking for answers on his own. He didn’t want to be associated with mobsters or the mafia or something. He couldn’t find much but it didn’t matter because the next day, Natasha came over to his house with three thick files with her. She placed them in front of him.

“This is everything on me, Clint and Peggy. It’s safer for you this way, if you really insist, than by asking around.”

She had left before he could say anything.

The folders felt too heavy in his hand and he spent too much time playing with the thread. Part of him wanted to pull on it and discover everything.

Another part of him felt like it was a betrayal and a huge invasion of privacy.

Natasha had smiled at him the next morning when he had brought the files back, thread  firmly in place, undisturbed.

“I trust you.” He’d said, not even entirely sure he did but he said it with conviction anyway.

They had settled into a comfortable relationship. Steve didn’t ask too many questions, knew that they never went to the public hospitals and that Clint really liked arrows. He would keep Natasha busy on the days Clint didn’t show up and give Peggy the correct spellings to things.

So, really, it didn’t surprise Steve that much when the man had fallen in through the door just as Steve was closing up. Steve blinked at the man while he leaned against the wall, gasping.

“Are they others here?” he asked.

“Sit. I’ll call Natasha.” Steve said, heading straight for the first aid kit and then for the door, locking it up and closing the blinds.

Getting Natasha to come over was easy enough. It was much harder trying to convince the man to let Steve bandage his wounds.

"I'm probably going to need stitches." The man protested but sat when Steve placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down.

"I can do stitches, okay, I've done this for Clint before." Steve said absently. The man didn't say anything, letting Steve do his thing which was great because Steve didn't really know to else to say. Natasha burst in while Steve was half way done and hovered around until he finished.

"You're getting good at this." She observed and Steve smiled sardonically at her.

"Learnt from the best."

"Go home, Steve." She said kindly. The man still wouldn't look at him and Steve sighed, resigned.

"Yeah, that was the plan." He said, allowing Natasha to escort him out and lock the door after him.

 

-

 

Steve was on his lunch break, sketching wings on a human back when the man fell on the seat opposite him. Sometimes the man was graceful and sometimes he was awkward hand gestures and a rigid back.

Sometimes he was abrasive and raw in his emotions, as he looked at Steve apprehensively.

Steve raised an eyebrow at him expectantly before returning to defining the back.

"Thanks for stitching me up yesterday." The man said, still staring at Steve.

"You're welcome." Steve said and then smiled at him because if the man bit his lips any harder, they'd probably bleed. The man’s shoulders relaxed.

"Are you a nurse or something?" He asked.

"Nah. Just a steady hand and not easily grossed out."

The man didn't answer so Steve went back to his sketch.

"My name’s Bucky." The man blurted out a few moments later.

"Steve." Steve extended a hand which the man cautiously took. Bucky's grip was firm, his palms calloused and big enough for Steve's heart to skip a beat. Then it went back to its normal thumping and wheezing ways as Bucky took his hand back, fidgeting with his thumbs.

Bucky stayed with him throughout lunch, barely saying anything, but Steve enjoyed his company none the less.

 

-

 

"I'm 26." Bucky said a couple of days later, waiting for his coffee to go.

"27." Steve had grinned and Bucky had huffed.

Steve tried, okay? He gets a fucking gold star for trying. He tried not to fall for Bucky's dumb face. He could never be in a relationship with someone whose job he didn't even know.

Again, his consciousness was set out to prove his morals wrong.

He couldn't help but find Bucky's infatuation with Friends endearing. He couldn't help be more concerned about Bucky than what he had been doing to get those bruises. He couldn't help but laugh when Bucky said, "You should see the other guy."

It seemed like he insisted on surrounding himself with people who refused to give him too much information.

 _That's what was important, though,_ a voice whispered in his head. And Steve knew. They gave him the information that mattered.

 

-

 

Bucky became a regular fixture in his life, the way he'd always been when he'd stay at a distance. Clint and Bucky bickered a lot but it was good natured enough that their scruffles would always end in laughter.

They would still come in bruised and battered and something in Steve itched for a chance to know something. Anything.

But they gave away nothing and the even if Steve could draw the logo of the bird on their clothing by heart, he never looked into it.

 

-

 

They were at Clint's house, watching Friends. Clint was the only one who took complete advantage of knowing Tony Stark and made sure all his technology was up to date. He also left obnoxious complaints on Tony's phone. Which was what he was doing right then.

It was the first time Steve and Bucky had been together outside of the coffee shop. This Bucky seemed different, almost relaxed. This Bucky smiled more easily but refused to leave Tony a message.

Clint finished off with a "Wish you were here, babe!" And kissing noises and then settles down between them. Natasha leans against the couch from in between Clint's legs and Peggy comes back from the kitchen with the plates balanced on one hand as she texted from the other.

Pizza and Friends and the warmth of his friends surrounding him. He thinks his mom would have been happy with the life he'd made himself.

 

-

 

"Anemic _and_ asthmatic. Consider me impressed, Rogers." Bucky said more than a month later as Steve breathed into his inhaler.

Steve paid him no mind, knowing it was concern that bled into Bucky's voice.

"I used to get panic attacks." Bucky said softly after a moment. Steve winced empathetically, although one panic attack probably didn't make Steve an expert.

Steve closed his eyes, breathing easier as Bucky rubbed a hand across his back.

 

-

 

“I lost the arm while falling off a mountain.” Bucky said while waiting for Steve’s to open up a shop. Steve’s immediate reaction was to ask what the hell Bucky was doing on a mountain in the first place but instead, Steve smiled.

“Technically, I’m color blind.” Steve offered. Bucky stood up straighter, peering at Steve curiously.

“Really. So everything is black and white to you? Television’s still in the 50’s?” Bucky grinned. Steve sighed in relief. He should have known better than to expect pity from Bucky, after everything he’s told him.

“Not exactly, jerk.” Steve laughed, finally getting the door open. Instead of walking off to his usual table, Bucky followed him as Steve hug his coat and started switching on the machines.

“You gonna elaborate on that?” Bucky asked after a moment, look at Steve expectantly.

“I’m dichromic. Reds come off as beige or grey. Greens look beige as well. Grey looks like red, that kind of thing.” Steve said, shrugging. He had long since made his peace with this particular inability. Painting wasn’t really for him, anyway.

Bucky was looking at him with an odd expression. Not pity, god forbid, or even sympathy. Just a look, a blazing look that made Steve look away and start working on Bucky’s coffee.

Steve went into the kitchen, read Clint’s post it notes that were stuck everywhere and started pulling out the baked goods. When he got back to the counter, Bucky was sitting on his table, tapping away at his phone. Steve placed the tray cautiously in front of Bucky before turning away to flip the sign on the door to Open. However, Bucky grabbed his arm.

Bucky was touching him.

“Is- Is that why you always draw charcoal sketches?” Bucky asked, almost hesitantly.

“Not really? I like charcoal sketching and paints have never been my thing. I mean,” Steve said, relaxing into Bucky’s grip, shifting on his feet thoughtfully. “I tried painting once but it was all wet and annoying. Plus, there’s something really nice about holding a pencil. Brushes aren’t really the same. But it’s not the only thing I use, I mean, I have a tablet and I use certain color palettes and it’s all pretty great, to be- why do you keep looking at me like that?” Steve winded down, looking at Bucky staring at him. Bucky abruptly let go of his hand.

“It’s nothing.” He said softly and Steve frowned, starting to object when a teenager banged her head against the door.

“Yo, is this open?” she yelled, the end of her sentence lost in a yawn. Steve sighed and then smiled at her before going and opening the door.

Steve and Bucky didn’t interact much for the rest of the day, with Bucky absorbed in his tablet, frowning and tapping way too hard sometimes.

Natasha relieved him of his shift that evening and Steve was almost out the door when he heard his name being called out. Steve turned and it wasn’t Bucky. (Why would it be?) Instead, Clint was navigating his way around tables and coming to a halt in front of him with a huge grin.

“You’re not allergic to cats.” Clint said this as a fact rather than a question. Steve looked at Bucky expectantly.

“So, say hypothetically, I found a cat. And, hypothetically, Lucky isn’t very on board with this whole cat business. Say, hypothetically, he keeps chewing my shoes and glaring at poor Snuffles.”

“You named your cat Snuffles?” Steve snorted. Clint smacked his head.

“Pay attention. When can I drop her off?”

“I didn’t say I would take her in.”

“Yeah, your heart eyes did. You have an evening shift tomorrow, right? So I’ll come over in the morning. Okay? Okay. Good talk.” Clint patted him on the shoulder and ran off into the kitchen again. Steve rolled his eyes and stopped by the pet store on his way home.

 

-

 

Snuffles was somewhere between brown and ginger. She was a playful thing, following Bucky’s finger as he trailed it over the cage bars. Steve distinctly heard Peggy yelling at Clint for bringing a cat into the establishment but didn’t pay much attention because Bucky was hunched over in front of the cage with a soft look on his face as she fought valiantly with a silver finger.

"She doesn't look like a Snuffles." Bucky said softly.

"I actually agree. She doesn't even respond to Snuffles." Steve said, sitting beside Bucky.

"Decide on a name on your way home." Peggy said firmly. When Bucky carried the box, Steve frowned.

"I can carry it, you know."

"Oh, I know. I want to." Bucky said almost cheerfully.

He's surprisingly good with avoiding bumping into people and playing with the cat at the same time. It was times like those that Steve wondered how the clumsy man who sat straight on chairs was this same man who moved towards his apartment with agility and grace.

Steve let them into the apartment and Bucky opened the cage. The cat ran out and looked at them with large eyes before going exploring.

"So, um, do you want any coffee or something?" Steve asked after a moment of awkward silence.

"Steve, it's like 10 at night."

"That's why I added the 'or something'."

Bucky smiled and was about to respond when something beeped. Bucky pulled out his phone and frowned.

"I gotta go. You'll be alright?"

_Will you stay if I say I won't be?_

"Yeah, it's alright."

 

-

 

His monthly checkups with the doctor were decidedly not fun. He couldn't pass the time listening to music because the doctor wouldn't stop talking and Steve- well, Steve couldn't very well tell him to shut up about his 6 year old daughter.

They were a little bit more fun when Clint decided to accompany him.

"Jesus, Rogers." Clint huffed, looking at his medical reports. "How are you still standing?"

"On his feet." His doctor said, plucking the the report out of Clint's hand.

Hashim had been Steve's doctor for over 10 years and had grown fiercely protective of the scrawny white kid.

Clint raised his hands in surrender.

"No offence intended. It's just that this guy yells at people twice his size and somehow avoids getting beaten up."

Hashim laughed loudly.

"That, friend, is a newly learnt lesson. This little boy would come to me every week with a new cut or bruise from some alley way fight."

"Alley way fights, huh, Stevie?" Clint waggled his eyebrows at him.

"Doesn't know when to back down from a fight, this one."

Clint sighed deeply, shaking his head.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Stevie, ver- okay, I'm out!" Clint glared at the doctor. "Aren't you gonna like yell at him for throwing your pillow?"

"No." Hashim said, amusement leaking into his voice.

Clint huffed and walked out.

 

-

 

“Let’s get ice cream!” Clint said, throwing his arm over Steve’s shoulders. Steve rolled his eyes but was unable to respond because shit chose that exact moment to hit the fan.

“Get down!” Someone behind them yelled. Clint’s arm pulled Steve closer and Clint’s body was suddenly cocooning his as they both tumbled on to the ground. Steve struggled for breath for a moment before opening his eyes. Steve vaguely registered the sound of explosions and gunshots before Clint picked him up again, pushing him along the crowd that was running away. Steve’s head was pounding and his breathing was too shallow. He searched aimlessly for his inhaler. Unable to find it, he tugged at Clint, who looked at him with calm eyes. Too calm, a stark contrast against the chaos reigning around them.

Clint took him in and his eyes widened in concern.

“Shit, come on.” Clint dragged him into an alley where Steve collapsed against the wall.

“Um, take deep breaths?” Clint said uncertainly. Steve glared at him the best he could before another explosion distracted him. When he looked back, an inhaler was at his feet and Clint was gone.

Once he could breathe normally again, Steve wandered out into the streets again. He knew better than to look for Clint but, nevertheless, he made his way towards the commotion. He’s never been one to run away from a fight.

The ‘fight’, however, seems to be centered around six people. Six people who wore black masks and were fighting off bullets and- arrows?

He couldn't get any further because somebody rammed into his, grabbed him and ran off, carrying Steve as though he weighed nothing. Rude.

Turning his face away from the fight, Steve looked up at his captor. Oh, God.

"Bucky?" Steve said in a determinedly bored voice. The man's- Bucky's, _of course_ it was Bucky- step faltered before he huffed and sped off again. Steve knew that fucking huff.

They came to a stop near Steve's apartment and fairly far away from the chaos.

"Jesus, kid, you're supposed to run away from the shooting. Did no one teach you that in school?" Bucky said gruffly.

"Yeah, I mostly ignored them. What's your excuse?" Steve crossed his arms and tried to look as stern as possible.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on. I'd recognize your dumb hair and your idiotic voice and your annoying glare anywhere."

Bucky froze and then turned away.

"Get inside and stay safe." He said before walking away.

Steve sighed and made his way into his apartment. He fed Katara (that's what he was naming her for now) and switched on the news.

It was as expected. People screaming, news reporters having no idea what was going on and government and other officials refusing to leave comments.

Steve switched it off before it got to him too badly.

The next day when he got to work, Peggy was the only one there.

"Where are Natasha and Clint?" Steve asked pointedly. Peggy narrowed her eyes at him then grinned.

"They took the day off. You know how they are."

"Yeah, sure." Steve muttered under his breath before getting work.

When Bucky came in, looking alright except a little worse for wear, Steve looked at him. He looked at him throughout Bucky ordering a very caffeinated, very diabetic coffee order. He looked at him throughout making the coffee order that would send Bucky into an early grave. He looked at him as Bucky gave him the money. Bucky refused to look at him, keeping his eyes lowered. He turned away and sat at his usual table, with Steve's eyes burning holes into his stupid face.

Passive aggressiveness was great.

When Bucky refused to look back or, you know, offer a flimsy excuse, Steve started to ignore him. The least he could do was give him ridiculous excuses that were an odd version of the truth like Clint. Or humour him like Natasha. Clearly Bucky did not get the Don't Keep Stuff From Steve memo.

Thankfully, a group of teenage girls chose that day to investigate the odd little coffee shop with subpar coffee and weird staff.

"Hi, there." One of them said, leaning forward against the counter. Her necklaces clanged against the marble as she stared up thoughtfully at the menu board, playing with a red (grey to him, technically, although he’d learnt to differentiate) strand of hair.

"Hi." Steve smiled. He prayed to everything that they wouldn't order some weird soy milk decaf latte because Steve just was not in the mood to do all that. The girl smiled back at him brightly.

"You have nice hair." She said, grinning.

"Um, thanks." He responded, touching his hair self consciously.

"She means that in the non creepiest way possible." Her friend said, looking up from her phone for a moment. Her brown eyes locked with his for a moment, filled with mirth, before she looked away again. The redhead laughed.

"How about we get four hot chocolates-" The redhead started.

"Maria won't drink that. Do you have green tea?" The other girl asked. Steve nodded.

" _Fine._ " The redhead huffed. "Three hot chocolates and- look, that cake looks like me!"

"Annie." The other girl sighed.

"No, seriously. Look at it. I want one of those, we're soulmates, you'll see."

"One of those and two plain croissants."

Annie grinned before handing over the money.

"Could you bring it over there?" Annie asked, pointing at a table occupied by two girls.

"Yeah, sure." Steve smiled and Annie grinned back.

"Thanks." Her friend said before dragging Annie off. Annie waved at him dramatically before complying with her friend.

Steve smiled to himself and set to work on the orders. Looking up, he noticed Bucky looking right at him. His eyes were very blue in that light and really, it shouldn't be fa-

"Yo, I was wondering if this place has wifi." The girl was back. She looked like she was trying to suppress a smile.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah." Steve found a note pad and wrote down the wifi username and password. Now he felt two pairs of eyes of him. When he handed the girl the paper, she was actually biting her lip to keep the laughter in. Steve really didn't get it.

Before walking away, the girl said, "He's cute."

Dumb teenage girls pointing out _dumb facts that Steve already knows, thanks_.

Catching his look, she finally laughed and raised her hands in surrender before walking away.

For the rest of the evening, Steve ignored the girls knowing looks and Bucky's infrequent stares.

"This is so good, man." Annie said when Steve went to ask if they needed anything else. "Seriously, this is me embodied in a cake. Who made this, _god_."

"Our baker." Steve said in an amused voice.

"I think you should name this Annie. Petition to name this Annie, raise your hands." Annie and the annoying brown eyed girl raised their hands while the other two looked over, unimpressed.

"Here, try!" Annie said, taking a spoon from the girl beside her, who protested for a moment before rolling her eyes.

"You can't just feed people stuff." She said, eying Annie wearily. It was more maternal than anything else.

"I can and I will!" Annie said, waving the spoon at Steve. Steve obliged. It was mostly sweet with a hint of bitterness. The taste was somewhere between bubblegum and really, Steve had to admit it was very much like the girls vibrant personality.

How did Clint even manage that?

"It does capture your whole..." Steve said, waving his hand in her general direction, and Annie pumped her fists into the air. Who even does that anymore?

When the girls left, Annie waving at him enthusiastically, Bucky and Steve were left alone. Dammit.

Steve settled behind the counter and started to sketch. He didn't have anything particular in mind but before he knew it, an arm was embodied in front of him.

A very bionic looking arm.

"Aren't you going to ask me if I need anything else?" A voice said. Steve jumped and grabbed his sketch book, pulling it to close to his chest. Bucky was looking at him, eyebrow raised.

"Do you need anything else?" Steve said in a monotone voice.

Bucky sighed.

"How's Snuffles?"

"It's Katara now."

"How's _Katara_?"

"I think she's in heat." Steve said mildly. She was in no such thing but it was nice to see Bucky turn slowly pink.

"You should, uh, take her to the vet."

Steve leveled Bucky with a stare.

“Stop looking at me like that!” Bucky gritted.

“Like what?”

“Like that!”

“What?”

Their faces were close, leaning in closer with each word. Bucky swallowed and Steve’s eyes followed the motion of his throat before settling on his lips.

“Like what, Buck?” He whispered. Bucky took a sharp breath, his lips dropping open. Steve licked his lips and leaned forward and-

“Sup, bitches?” Came Clint’s voice as the door swung open. Steve sighed long and slow as Bucky startled, falling on his elbow before swinging around and greeting Clint enthusiastically. Clint started to look on his head for bumps. It shouldn’t be adorable but it was.

 

-

 

“Steve, stop staring at customers like that.” Natasha said patiently. Steve tore his eyes away and looked at Natasha.

“Staring like what, I’m not staring like anything, my mind had just wandered off, I wasn’t staring at a specific place or anything.” Steve said. Natasha gave him the kind of stare that reminded him vaguely of Katara.

“So you weren’t staring at Bucky and his friend?”

“What, uh, no, why would I do that? Hey, Clint! About this cake…”

Clint popped his head through the doors.

“What about it?” Clint asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Do you wanna rename it Annie?”

Clint narrowed his eyes until he was squinting at Steve.

“Why?”

Steve wasn’t exactly sure how to say that he just used an offhand comment by a customer as a reason to evade Natasha so he just shrugged.

“No. It shall remain Rainbow Slinkerson until you give me a good reason.”

Steve sighed. When he looked back, Natasha had joined the two men at the table. She talked to the dark skinned man sitting opposite Bucky with familiarity and Steve figured they “worked” together. Well, she could wait them. He was going to do other important stuff like wipe those tables at the opposite side of the shop.

Clint found him half an hour later, scrubbing a table viciously.

“Woah, gonna get muscles from that.” He said and Steve scrubbed a little hard.

“I feel like having a burger. Let’s go get a burger, Stevie!”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“I consider feeding you very important work.” Clint said, sounding offended.

“Get that lovestruck expression off your face and stuff your face instead!” Clint badgered when Steve didn’t respond.

"Fine!" Steve gave in, going back and picking up his jacket. He grabbed Clint's arm and dragged him out, calling out that he was going for his lunch break, not sparing the customers a glance.

They made their way to a burger place Clint wanted to try a block away, Clint smirking at his the whole way. Steve steadily ignored the looks, instead choosing to comment on the weather.

By the time they reached the diner, Clint was full on grinning and Steve really didn't know what else he could say about a normal summer day. When he narrowed his eyes at Clint, he only got eyebrow waggling in return.

Steve huffed, a huff that sounded too much like Bucky's, and sat down at a table.

"Hi, can I take your ord- hey, it's you!" Steve looked up to see Annie grinning at him brilliantly.

"It's me." Steve smiled back instinctively.

"And me." Clint added.

"Yes, this is the baker."

"Oh, my God." Annie gasped and Clint looked at Steve, slightly wide eyed. Steve shrugged, haven gotten used to the girls dramatic flares.

Annie grabbed Clint's shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"Your cake is amazing. Name it after me."

"This is Annie?" Clint smiled.

"Hey, you mentioned me. So cool. I'm absolutely mentionable. Hey, sorry." Annie winced as her hand hit Clint's ear, moving his hearing aid, as she removed her grip on him.

"Nah, it's cool." Clint fixed it and looked up at her, smiling.

"We will definitely name the cake after you if you get us amazing burgers."

"Eep!" Annie squealed. Customers jumped and Annie apologized profusely before turning back to them.

"I will give you the best burger experience of your life." She assured them before stalking off to the kitchen.

 

-

 

"Stop walking like an old man, Rogers." Clint said. "I know you don't wanna get back but this is ridiculous."

"I'm walking like a normal person." Steve said primly.

"It took us 10 minutes to walk here. It's already been 15 minutes and we're barely half way there."

Steve sighed and picked up his speed.

"Atta, boy!" Clint said, throwing his arm around Steve's shoulders. They walked like that the rest of the way.

It was nice, so naturally, as soon as Steve walking into the shop, he walking right into Bucky's friend. Bucky's friend who smiled and pushed a hand forward and said, "Hey, you're Steve, right?"

"Yeah, and you are?" Steve asked, shaking his hand glumly.

"Sam Wilson. I'm a friend of Bucky's."

"Friend is putting it loosely." Bucky said, appearing by his side suddenly.

"Well, he glares at me a lot less than the general public so I'm going to consider that a good thing." Sam said, rolling his eyes.

"Bucky doesn't glare that much." Steve said, frowning. Sure, Bucky stared off into the distance a lot. He also frowned while doing so but he always somewhat smiles at Steve.

"You haven't seen him act around other people. Might as well be wearing a huge sign that says Stay Away."

"He's a therapist, don't listen to him." Bucky said, before ushering Sam out of the shop. "Bye, Steve!"

"A very good therapist!" Steve heard Sam's voice through the closing doors.

 

-

 

Blood bled red. Steve couldn't see red. It must be a rich colour, for people to describe it so avidly. Steve stared as the blood leaked through her fingers and dripped on to the floor.

Steve didn't know how to clean blood off floors. He'd have to Google that.

"I told you we shouldn't have dragged him into this." Natasha was saying, pacing the room. They were in the coffee shop and it was barely past 7 a.m. The blinds were closed at the doors locked, with a few chairs of reinforcements.

Peggy sighed and then gasped as Clint doused her cut with antiseptic. It wasn't deep enough that it needed stitches.

"It's a miracle he isn't dead already." Natasha said, finally coming to a stop in front of Steve.

"Oh, what?" Steve asked, looking up. "Finally stopped talking about me like I'm not right here?"

"You, Rogers, are going to get killed someday because you can't reign in your snark." Natasha narrowed her eyes at him.

"Is that before or after those teenagers tried to take me down?"

Natasha sighed.

"Look." Steve said, sitting up properly. "I know all of you like your mystery and your privacy and your secrecy. But secrets have a cost and this one might be a price even Tony can't pay. Your shady agency came barely on time today. What if next time, there are people in here? Customers?"

"They don't know about this place." Peggy said finally, a hand pressed against her forehead. "They only know you because Clint and Bucky both interacted with you on the day of the explosion. They took their best lead and got lucky."

"They're a bunch of teenagers." Clint huffed.

"Their age doesn't matter. They're smart. They're pissed. They seem to have no care of casualties or collateral damage." Natasha took out her phone and started typing away. Barely ten minutes later, a knock came on the door. When Steve opened it, Bucky stumbled in. For a man whose limbs coiled with such elegance, he sure could be a complete mess of limbs sometimes.

"Are... You... Okay?" Bucky asked, hands on his knees as he panted.

"Did you just run all the way from your-?" Steve asked, waving vaguely outside instead of finishing the sentence. Apartment? House? Cardboard box in an alley? Steve didn't fucking know.

"Are they the same-" Bucky started but Natasha cut him off.

"- Brats who decided to pop explosives under police vehicles. The very same."

"Why Steve?" Bucky asked. The shop grew quiet. Everyone knew why. He was the weakest, barely a link to the elusive company he kept.

"Well, he's not an ex-assassin who can fight off five people at once." Clint said, like it was the most obvious thing. "He's a normal guy who gets into dumb fights and can beat the shit out of like, one guy."

"Practice makes perfect." Steve said.

"Don't make me tell your doctor that!" Clint smirked and the tension dispersed. As Natasha and Clint got into a bickering/flirting session, Peggy got busy on her phone, leaving Steve to sigh dramatically.

Cold fingers tentatively brushed against his neck. Rather than flinching, he leaned into it, relishing the cold against his sweaty skin.

"How are your hands always cold, it's like 90 degrees out. I'm at least 97% sure metal is supposed to warm up in warm weather." Steve rambled.

Bucky leaned forward until his lips were a couple of inches away from Steve's ear. Steve stopped himself from shuddering or leaning in as Bucky's breath brushed against the hair behind his ear.

"You know," Bucky whispered. "This place has air conditioning."

What a little shit.

"So does my apartment." Steve whispered back before getting up.

"Since no one cares enough to explain, are we opening or can I go home and sleep?" Steve asked.

"Two hours ago, two teenagers attacked you." Clint said, voice deadpan. Steve just nodded.

"It was pure luck that Peggy was coming towards you and kicked their butts." Clint continued.

"I wouldn't be standing if it wasn't for Peggy." Steve confirmed.

"What if those delinquents are out there still?"

Steve took a big, deep breath and opened his mouth to start talking when something hit him.

"Less talking, more changing, Rogers." Natasha said. Steve looked at the hoodie and wig in his hands and then looked at Natasha again.

"Don't tell me it won't fit you. Barnes, make sure he gets home in one piece."

Steve put on the jacket but refused to put on the wig.

"Here." Bucky said, tugging his cap off and placing it on Steve's head in one quick movement. He then placed an arm over Steve's shoulder and pulled him out. His arm went all the way across Steve's narrow shoulders and then some.

Like this, they make their way to Steve's apartment, their heads down and with Steve sweating profusely. Steve doesn't know where his body ends and Bucky's starts and he doesn't know if his irregular heartbeat is because of his anemia or because of Bucky fucking Barnes pressed up against his side.

"You know what? We should make dinner." Bucky said when they were safely inside Steve's home.

"Bucky, I burn water."

"You work at a coffee shop."

"The machine does all the actual making." Steve sighed, falling on his couch. Bucky cautiously sat beside him, his back rigid until Steve sighed again.

"We could order pizza." Steve offered and some of the tension eased from Bucky's shoulders. Steve got up and handed Bucky the remote.

"Find something to watch, I'll order. Is meat okay?" Steve asked and Bucky nodded, already surfing through channels.

When Steve came back to the living room, Bucky was leaning forward and watching the screen intently. On the screen was a show about modern technology, with a man eagerly explaining things.

"You're such a dork." Steve said, bouncing back on the couch and maybe jumping a little too close to Bucky. Bucky made to change the channel but Steve grabbed his arm.

"Leave it." Steve said, settling into the couch. Bucky's back was still straight and his posture still too rigid for someone who was sitting on Steve's mega soft couch but Steve took what he could get.

Somewhere in the next two hours, between eating and actual conversation, Steve had managed to draw Bucky's arm in embarrassing definition. It wasn't until later that night, when Bucky had gone and Natasha had called that he actually saw the paper he'd been doodling in throughout Bucky's visit. And Steve hoped to God that Bucky didn't see it.

 

-

 

"Selfie!" Annie yelled, quickly tapping away at her phone. Steve sighed indulgently. Annie grabbed his face, bringing it next to hers. She clicked three pictures in succession.

As she edited the picture, Steve saw that Clint had appeared behind them and was making a ridiculously happy face.

"Selfie with cute barista and baker-" Annie said, typing away. "Hey, what're your names anyway?"

"Steve, Clint." Steve said, pointing at the owners of each name.

"Cool, yo." She said, adding the final touches with a flourish. "So, I'll have one Annie."

"One entire Annie?" Clint asked.

"Yes, the whole thing." She grinned.

"They're not actually named Annie yet, you know." Steve said, taking down the order as Clint waltzed back into the kitchen, with promises of making the rainbowest cake ever.

"I know, but I'm persistent and it's going to happen sooner or later. Trust me, soon, you all will be calling it Annie and then, you'll have no choice but change it's name! Mwahaha!" She threw her head back and laughed. Her laughter, however, was interrupted by a very familiar huff.

"Hey, Bucky." Steve smiled and Bucky got out of line from behind Annie and stood by the counter. "The usual?"

"Yeah." Bucky said, giving a hint of a smile.

When Steve came back from making Bucky's order, Bucky was leaning against the counter, looking anywhere except Annie. Annie, on the other hand, was staring at him with a slightly maniacal smile on her face.

"Your order won't be done for a couple of hours, you know?" Steve said to Annie. She turned her crazed gaze to him.

“Oh, I know! So, there’s this really cool new restaurant in town. I went there and, well, you know me, total foodie, and it was amazing!”

“Okay…” Steve wasn’t entirely sure why she was telling him this with a crazed look in her eyes.

“You should go! You should take him!” She exclaimed, jabbing a finger in Bucky’s direction. Bucky startled and cleared his throat.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea.” Steve said slowly. Bucky was obviously uncomfortable with the idea, whether it was because of Steve or because of the restaurant, Steve didn’t know.

“Are you kidding me, it’s a great idea! You can get all dressed up and let your hair down.” She said, delicately picking up a strand of Bucky’s hair. Bucky side eyed her until she let it drop with a sheepish expression. She paused, taking in their expressions and slowly backing away.

“I’m gonna go- ask Clint!” She said before scampering off into the kitchen, ignoring Steve’s reprimand that _she can’t go in there, God dammit._ Turning back to Bucky, Steve smiled at him softly.

“Well, she’s-”

“Annoying.” Bucky said, frowning slightly.

“She’s something.” Steve replied with a laugh. Despite everything, Annie was something refreshing. Someone who blurted out whatever came to mind, a stark contrast to the elusive company Steve kept. However, her suggestion had left an awkwardness in the air that Steve couldn’t get rid of. Bucky took his order and sat on his table, not moving even when Annie petted his head as she waltzed out of the shop.

 

-

 

Clint was not paid enough for this.

Giant monsters? He could take that on. Dealing with an angry Natasha? Harder, but manageable.

Putting up with psychotic teenagers? _Not in the job description._

“This is the actual worst.” He said into his comm as he fired three more arrows at the triangle of brats taking down S.H.I.E.L.D. officers left and right.

“ _They’re normal kids_ , you said.” Natasha’s voice was laced with irritation. “ _What’s the worst they could do_ , you said.”

“They’re not even legal! The one with the pink hair isn’t even allowed to drive?!” Clint ducked and jumped off the perch as something behind him detonated. Natasha skidded to a stop beside him.

“So, we have four S.H.I.E.L.D. agents down. We need to take those devices away from them.” She said.

“Do you think if I give them candy, they’ve give me the tech?” Clint asked. Natasha sighed before smacking him on the head. Blinking, he rubbed the back of his head.

“Thanks, Nat. Hey, I’ve got an idea!”

“That’s great, share with the rest of the cla- Clint, where are you going?” Natasha called as Clint ran towards the teenegers. Despite the capabilities of the tech, it was put together with scraps and old machinery. It was really amazing that it was working as well as it was. Tony would have a field day with these kids.

“Nat, get water.” He muttered into his comm, dodging a bolt of electricity. _Jesus fucking Christ._ “Nat, spray them with water, the tech is old, it’ll collapse. _Oh, my god, what is up with these kids?”_

“Shoot first, ask questions later.” Natasha snapped. Clint was about to respond when he was hit by a huge wave of water. By the time he was able to sit up, the teenagers were sitting in the middle, on their knees and tied up and dripping wet.

Natasha gave him a hand, pulling him up.

“Really, Nat? You couldn’t have warned me?”

Natasha shot him a serene smile and shrugged. Clint was already plotting how to make her coffee just bitter enough for her to feel minutely uncomfortable all day.

 

-

 

“And they all lived happily ever after!” Clint said, throwing his arm around Steve’s shoulders. Steve frowned.

“So, they were just kids wreaking some havoc?” He asked, not reassured.

“That’s the very, very simple version of it.” Natasha said drily.

“Okay, but if they’re connected to the thing that happened on the day I went to the dentist, that means there’s six of them. Or more.” Steve said.

“People are taking care of that.”

“Taking care of that how?” Steve demanded.

“The teenagers will talk eventually.” Peggy said. Steve’s eyes widened.

“Are you torturing a bunch of teenagers?” The entire room stilled.

“You really think we’d do that?” Clint asked quietly. Steve huffed in frustration.

“I don’t know because you haven’t told me anything. You’re not just glossing over details, you’re not telling me anything, even when my life depends on it.” Steve snapped before grabbing his coat and walking out. No one followed him. A part of him was disappointed but another part of relieved. He wanted answers but he wasn’t going to get them so he just wanted to be alone.

He walked without direction, stewing in his anger and frustration, thinking up of a hundred scenarios of confronting his friends, thousands of words floating around his head. A rather long and ferocious monologue was interrupted when he heard a shrill voice call his name. He turned around to see Annie jogging towards him.

Her bright grin was the last thing he saw before he heard an explosion and he was surrounded with smoke and rubble. Coughing, he waved his arms in a futile attempt to clear the gas. He heard screams and shouts of surprise as people fumbled around him. The urge to join in rose but Steve pushed it down and took a deep breath. Breath in through the nose, exhale from the mouth. Slowly. It took a moment to calm his hammering heart and stop his ear from ringing but as soon as he felt stable, he looked around. The gas was dissipating, evidently not lethal, although some people were still trying to catch their breath.

The scene that greeted them once they could see frightened Steve. A ring of live wires that crackled with electricity surrounded them. The people inside the ring, more than two dozen, were herded together. Outside the ring, three people stood in a triangle formation, keeping the people inside.

Considering the fact that they were on the sidewalk, it was a tight fit and many people were sticking together to avoid electrocution. Some sat on the ground, looking defeated while others frantically looked around for an escape. He felt a whisper of a touch against his hand. He looked beside him to see Annie smiling, scared yet comforting.

“What’s going on?” She whispered. Steve shrugged. Grabbing her hand, he moved forward until they were standing right behind one of their captors. They stood straight, and Steve could not tell their gender, but that was neither here nor there.

“Excuse me,” Steve said, because it never hurt to be polite, right? They turned around and piercing grey eyes focused on Steve. Recognition hit Steve like a physical force.

“You’re one of the people who tried to kidnap me.” He whispered harshly. They simply smirked and turned their back on Steve again.

“Is all this because of me?” Steve tried again. They did not answer and Steve sank to the floor, among the others. Annie’s hand was a constant, comforting pressure. Guilt bit at him as he fidgeted around for several moments, restlessness seeping into his muscles.

He kept twitching for several moments until he felt a slight pressure against his arm. Turning, he saw a person smile gently at him.

“Are you alright, child?” Zie asked. Steve smiled nervously, but before he could answer, Annie was rambling off.

“See, these are the same people that probably tried to like, I don’t know, abduct him earlier and now he’s worried all this is for him.”

The person continued smiling, although zir smile has turned sympathetic.

“I doubt all this is your fault. They decided to do this. It’s on them.” Zie said. Steve smiled back gratefully.

“That’s what I thought! I’m Annie.” Annie said, reaching out a hand.

“Dani.” Zie smiled.

“Dani as in Daniel or Dani as in Danielle?” Annie asked.

“Don’t be rude.” Steve said softly to Annie. Dani continued smiling pleasantly though.

“It’s alright. Just Dani, sweetheart. Not guy or girl.”

“Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah, cool, totally, my friend was actually saying something about that the other-” Annie’s enthusiastic monologue was interrupted, however, when a man huffed loudly.

“Is this really the time for this?” He snapped. Annie stood up, glaring at the man.

“Easy for you to say, Mr. I Have A Sexist Comment On My Shirt. This happens to be very important and-” Annie was once again interrupted but by a much more malicious source. Electricity shot through Annie’s body and she crumpled to the ground. There was a moment of silence before the protests began, when the man Annie had been addressing rose to his feet angrily, screaming.

Steve frantically checked for a pulse but found none. He pressed harder, hoping against hope that he was missing something, that maybe it was too weak but still there. He felt Dani gently take his hand and move it away.

“It’s okay. I’m a doctor.” Was whispered as though from a distance. Other words were spoken but Steve could not tell you what they were. He stood up abruptly.

“No.” Steve said, shaking his head. “No, revive her. I’m going to deal with this.” Steve said. Noticing that they had stopped guarding the triangle, Steve made his way to them, going as close as he could.

“Hey!” He called out. All three turned to glare at him but he simply glared back. Before he could start blurting out the words anger had coursing through him, chaos decided it had remained dormant for too long.

The live wires cackled loudly before falling to the ground, silent. The people rushed out and Steve was stuck, unsure of whether he should follow the captors or go back to Annie. This decision was taken out of his hand when he was grabbed from above and carried out into the sky. Two feet was wrapped around his torso, allowing him to be airborne.

“What the fuck?!” He yelled, his voice carrying out to the captors. They turned to him only for two people to appear before them. Steve briefly recognized Natasha’s face before it was blurred as air whipped against his eye. Looking up, he saw a familiar profile.

“Sam?” Steve called. Sam didn’t respond until he dropped Steve on a rooftop.

"Very graceful." Steve rasped out, getting up and brushing off dirt. The look Sam gave him told him that Sam was totally not impressed by the snark.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, with more steadiness and calm than he actually felt. Sam sighed deeply before he glared at Steve. Or rather, something behind Steve. Turning, Steve saw Bucky stalking towards them, disbelief evident in his features.

"What the fuck, Rogers?!" He called out. "You were out of my sight for fifteen minutes. _Fifteen minutes._ "

"Nice eyeliner." Steve said once Bucky was close enough. As Bucky took a deep breath, presumably to start a rant or something, Steve put a hand over Bucky's mouth. Bucky looked down at him with narrowed eyes.

"He was just worried." Sam said simply. Steve nodded, tossing aside the shiver felt at those words.

"So, what's going on down there?" Steve pointed down. Bucky was saying something against his hand and the way his lips were moving against Steve's skin was becoming very hard to ignore.

"Same group. The last of them, looks like. They're being taken care of." Sam said over Bucky's mumbling.

"Alright. Someone I know got hit with one of their, I don't know, electrocuting things? How long does it take to wake up from being shocked?" Silence greeted his words. "What?"

Bucky took Steve's hand off his mouth with both hands and held it. A bit too tenderly, considering the circumstances.

"Steve, no one’s actually recovered from those." Sam said softly. Steve's hand tightened between Bucky's. He wanted to say something but he didn't know what or how. His mind was miraculously blank, white static taking over as his vision blurred and he stared, unfocused, at whatever was in front of him. He concentrated on his breathing and Bucky's warmth around his hand.

Perhaps that's why he didn't notice that he was slowly being lead away until he entered the shade of the stairwell. Sam had gone and Bucky was a looming presence. Somewhere along the way, Bucky had intertwined their fingers. He lead the way and Steve followed him into the darkness.

 

-

 

The next few weeks were a blur. If you asked him later, he could pick out a few memories with eerie clarity.

He remembered the memorial, of course he did. It took place in a mosque and he had stood at the steps, listening in silence to prayers he did not understand. The turnout was massive, with several people wearing bright clothes. He remembered seeing her friend, who had taken one look at him and given him a warm hug. As though she was the one comforting him. If she noticed the looks her peers were giving her, she ignored them.

He remembered Dani coming into the bakery. Zie had grinned when zie saw Annie's cake in the front, decorated as lavishly as ever.

He remembered Peggy sitting him down and telling him about the teenagers, about their motives and despite the abundance of information, Steve found he no longer cared.

Somewhere between indiscernible moments, he remember drawing Annie's face over and over. He remembered soft touches from friends, he started noticing how Clint would hug him more often.

When Bucky would storm through the door, Steve stared at him blankly before going about his order and teasing but Bucky always seemed more sad than anything else when Steve turned away again.

One day, it was different.

Bucky walked in and he wasn't wearing his complete black attire. He'd traded his black tops for a navy blue sweater with thumb holes and Steve's poor heart couldn't take the thumb holes and the bed hair.

"Are you okay?" He asked hesitantly. Bucky looked at him with glazed eyes.

"Do you wanna have dinner with me?" Bucky blurted out and Steve stared at him, a little wide eyed.

"I mean, I'm hungry and your shifts about to end and-"

"Okay."

"-it's okay if you don't- oh. Okay?"

"Okay." Steve smiled. "Let me just grab my things."

"Great." Bucky said breathlessly.

"Where're we going?" Steve asked once they were outside.

"The place Annie had recommended." Bucky said bluntly. They walked three blocks in comfortable silence until Bucky stopped. Staring at the restaurant, Steve simply _laughed_.

Of course Annie would recommend this place. _Of course._

The designer was obviously going for a shock-them-into-coming-in look. Bright pastel colours glared at him as he entered at the vibrance gave him a slight headache. But it was wonderful.

By "restaurant", Annie has obviously meant a ground for the decaying of teeth. _Everything_ had something sweet in it.

They placed their orders and Bucky was staring at the speakers incredulously, wondering if they were actually playing Barbie Girl.

"How've you been?" Bucky asked finally. Steve repressed a sigh. Of course this was the whole point of this. An intervention of sorts.

"I'm fine." Steve shrugged.

"Steve, I know you." Bucky said.

"You've known me for like two months."

"Which, believe it or not, is the perfect amount of time to know you."

"Can we not do this, please?" Steve sighed. He braced himself for the onslaught of concern but it never came. Bucky simply nodded and changed the subject. Bucky was being unusually chatty but Steve was too relieved to comment.

They jumped from topic to topic and Steve realized that Bucky did know him, surprisingly well. He wasn't sure how to they had come to this point, from acquaintances to Bucky knowing he had a back brace. It was surreal, almost, and if blood rushed to Steve's cheek too often, well, he could blame some malady or the other.

What he couldn't blame on his illnesses was the stuttering of his heart when Bucky held his hand on the way home. That was _entirely_ Bucky's fault.

 

-

 

Steve didn’t know what they had been thinking.

They had been standing in front of Steve’s door when Bucky had cupped his face and asked, ever so softly, “May I?” Steve had nodded and Bucky had pressed his lips against Steve’s and Steve didn’t know what they had been thinking. _Why hadn’t they been doing this before?_

Bucky was a soft, slow kisser, seemingly content to just stand there and pepper Steve’s lips with kisses. He pressed Steve against his door and his fingers tapered at Steve's waist and Steve was falling apart. Steve licked at Bucky's lips only to get a smile in return. Before Steve could do anything else, Bucky pulled away.  

"I should get going." He said softly and Steve scoffed.

"Or you could not go and we could make out on my comfy couch." Steve replied. He tried to not smirk as Bucky's breath hitched.

"Yeah." Bucky's voice was suddenly low. "Yeah, we could do that instead."

"Good." Steve said. He turned and opened his door and ushered Bucky in before surging forward and slotting their mouths together again. It was messy, with none of the soft finesse as earlier as Bucky picked him up and Steve wrapped his legs around Bucky's waist. Steve gasped into Bucky's mouth as Bucky trailed his hand on Steve's back. Metallic fingers played at the hem of his shirt and Steve arched his back into the touch.

"Lights." Steve gasped because he wanted, he _needed_ to see this. Bucky fumbled for a bit before everything was thrown into light. Steve stared at Bucky, memorizing the curve of his jaw, the soft smile playing on his lips, his _expression_.

"I like your face." Steve said and Bucky blinked rapidly. "Also, why are you still carrying me, I'm a grown man."

"What if I like carrying you? This way, you won't go running towards danger." Bucky said fondly. Steve rolled his eyes before kissing Bucky's cheek. Then his his jaw.

He pressed his palm against Bucky's erratically beating heart as he licked and bit his way down Bucky's neck.

"I could spend forever just listening to you make these noises." Steve whispered against Bucky's collarbone. He got a shaky laugh in return.

"Steve Rogers, a lot of people have tried to kill me but you are going to accomplish it."

"Oh, is this how I can get information out of you?" Steve murmured before latching on to the curve of Bucky's neck. Bucky's hands tightened around him. His moan was cut off with a whine when Steve moved away.

"What's your real name?" Steve teased, grinning. Bucky wasn't grinning, though, just looking breathlessly at him.

"James Buchanan Barnes." Bucky said. Steve's eyes widened. He swallowed and kissed Bucky's forehead.

"I trust you, you know that, right?" Steve's lips moved against Bucky's forehead and Bucky nodded.

"Not the smartest move, though." Bucky said. Steve glared at him pointedly.

"You're not kissing me. That's not terribly smart either."

 

-

 

They somehow made it to the couch without too much injury.

"I'm proud of us for making it here." Steve said breathlessly, even though he didn't actually do any work. Bucky's body was pressing him to the couch Steve was tugging insistently at Bucky's shirt.

"Please don't expect me to be able to talk while you're doing that with your fingers." Bucky groaned as Steve's finger danced around his hips.

"You could always pin my arms above my head." Steve said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Bucky growled and kissed him. Steve's fingers abandoned their quest for skin and found their way to Bucky's hair. Bucky shuddered at the touch and Steve tugged experimentally only for Bucky to moan into his mouth.

Bucky pulled away, lips red and hair a complete mess and Steve loved it.

"Can I?" Bucky asked, fingers brushing against the hem of Steve's shirt. Steve only gave it it a moments thought before he pecked Bucky on the lips.

"Bed?" He asked and Bucky grinned. He got up and Steve took his hand led him into the bedroom.

"Your cat's glaring at me." Bucky whispered. Steve laughed as he closed the door to his bedroom. He flipped on the light switch and heard Bucky draw in a breath.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

An entire wall was paying homage to his friends. Taped across the wall were pictures and painting of his friends, of places and memories. An entire section of the wall were his drawings of Annie.

"These are really beautiful." Bucky said, fingers grazing the pictures. Steve shrugged, suddenly self conscious.

"There's also a bed in this room. Just saying." Steve said. Bucky turned and smiled at him.

"You still want to do this?" He asked, almost uncertainly.

"Yeah. Do you?"

"Fuck, yes." Bucky said, crossing the small space he had created when he had looked at the wall and kissed Steve. Just as they were about to fall on the bed, Steve flipped them so Bucky was under him. He grabbed Bucky's hands and pinned them above his head.

"This is how to remain coherent." Steve beamed.

"You have no idea what this is doing to me."

Steve straddled him and kissed Bucky's nose.

"I have kind of an idea of what this is doing to you." Steve said, waving at the bulge in Bucky's pants.

"You little punk." Bucky said, weakly leaning up and kissing Steve, if only to shut him up. Steve pulled away, laughing, after a moment.  

"You promised nakedness." Steve said as he pulled his shirt over his head. He felt Bucky take a sharp breath. Steve looked down at his body then at Bucky.

"Yeah, not much." Steve said easily. "Still want this?"

"Every bit." Bucky said and Steve let out a shaky breath.

"You suuure- oh, _God_." Steve didn't moan. He didn't moan as Bucky spread his hands across Steve's torso or as he sucked a bruise on Steve's neck. Except he totally did.

"Buckkkyyy." Steve whined when Bucky moved away for a moment.

"I can't remember if I expected you to be this vocal in bed or not."

"I can be quiet." Steve whispered. He slowly ground against Bucky and Bucky let out a sound that could possibly have been non human. "Or not."

Bucky didn't even bother saying anything as Steve rid him of his shirt. He let his hands wander over Steve's frame as Steve laid kisses all over Bucky's torso. A part of Bucky was content to just lie there and let Steve cover every each of him with his lips.

Another part of him, the part Steve was rocking against, wasn't so into this.

Before he could say anything, Steve took a nipple into his mouth and really, Bucky couldn't do anything but weave his fingers through Steve's hair and gasp.

Steve hummed against him and was nipping dangerously close to his waistband.

"Steve." Bucky growled and Steve looked up at him.

"Okay." Steve said. Bucky didn't comment on the shakiness of his voice as Steve deliberately rocked against him.

"I'm a grown man, I'm not going to come in my pants." Bucky gritted out. Steve laughed.

"You really shouldn't challenge me about this stuff." Steve said with a twinkle in his eye and Bucky knew he was a goner.

"But yeah, you're right." Steve said, swiftly getting off him. He took off the rest of his clothes and Bucky barely got a chance to admire him before he felt a tugging at his pants. Bucky lifted his lower body lazily as Steve pulled off his pants and then Steve was on top of him again.

"Kiss me." Bucky said from under him and who was Steve to refuse him. The kiss was sloppy as they moved against each other, cocks sliding together. It was more moans and teeth and frenzied pressing of skin than it was actual kissing.

Steve pulled away as Bucky took their cocks in his hand and a part of him was aware of how loud he was being but a much larger part of him didn't care.

"Fuck, you're going to kill me." Steve whispered harshly, the only things keeping him up were his hands on either side of Bucky's head.

"Never." Bucky whispered and Steve's laugh was cut off by a moan as Bucky's hand sped up.

"I shouldn't find that as sweet as I do." Steve managed to get out before succumbing to the feeling and being unable to form words that required more than one syllable.

Steve came to the sound of Bucky laughing. When he came down from his high, he opened his eyes to see Bucky staring his face, completely still.

"You okay?" Steve asked. Bucky nodded.

"You're beautiful."

Steve didn't know if he wanted to laugh or refute him so he kissed Bucky, covering his cock with his own hand and moving until Bucky was gasping against his mouth.

"Fuck, I'm goi-"

"Yeah, that's the plan."

"God, shut _up_." Bucky groaned before coming with a choked off sound. Steve whispered encouragements as Bucky rode off his high.

Steve lay on his side as Bucky came back to himself.

"So, I'd rate that a 20/10." Steve said as Bucky looked at him. Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes, not without smiling.

"Just 20, eh?"

"A bargain can be made for 30." Bucky's eyes were startlingly blue from so close, or maybe that was just post coital bliss.

"How so?"

"Get towels?"

Bucky laughed. He got up, got damp towels and wiped them down faster than Steve ever could. Then he got back into bed with Steve when he tugged at his hand.

"Cuddles are mandatory." Steve said.

"I wasn't going anywhere."

"Good."

 

-

 

Steve woke up to find Bucky's limbs draped across him. Steve snuggled against the warmth sleepily before falling back asleep.

The next time Steve woke up, Bucky was sitting stiffly beside him.

"I can tell you're freaking out." Steve said sleepily.

"How are you okay with this?" Bucky wondered. Steve closed his eyes and reached out, intertwining their fingers. Bucky relaxed a fraction as Steve stroked his hand with his thumb.

"Yesterday, you said you know me. I know you too."

Bucky let out a bark like laugh.

"Steve, you don't know anything."

"Bucky." Steve sighed. He didn't know how to put this into words. "I know you, okay? I know you watch Friends reruns and I know you're a complete nerd. I know you work at some secret place but you won't tell me because you can't. I know you've done bad things but I also know you're a good man. And if you're telling me you're not worth being loved, you're telling me I shouldn't love Natasha or Clint or Peggy."

Silence greeted his words but Bucky did not move away.

"You want to leave, I can't force you to stay. But I know what I'm getting into so don't pretend you're doing this for me, alright?" Steve finished, keeping his eyes closed. He was hyper aware of Bucky's hand under his and Bucky's slow breathing. After a moment, he felt the bed dip beside him and Bucky lay down and laid his head on Steve's chest.

"You're too good." Bucky said softly. Steve snorts.

"Yeah, I'm not the one working for a top secret organization that protects people." Steve said, carding his fingers through Bucky's hair. Steve felt him smile against skin as he pressed a kiss against his hair. Eventually, their breathing evened out as they fell asleep.

 

-

 

When they got to the cafe the next morning, Peggy was screaming into her phone.

"My family helped build this organization- if you think I'm going to- I don't give a _fuck_." She saw Steve, threw him a sheepish expression before it turned thunderous again. Steve looked at Bucky, concerned but Bucky simply rolled his eyes.

"They always listen to her in the end anyway." Steve nodded and turned his attention to Bucky.

"The usual?" He asked, grinning. Bucky smiled and leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead.

"More or less."

"Congrats on the sex!" They heard Clint yell from the kitchen. "I'm baking a cake right now that says that."

"Oh, finally." Peggy said. "No, I'm not giving up, listen here-" She snapped at her phone. "Natasha, give me a good threat."

Steve winced as Natasha rattled off a long threat that Steve prefers to pretend he didn't hear.

It's wasn't conventional, but it was his life and he really couldn't complain.

 

**Epilogue**

 

He walked out of Sam's apartment that evening feeling much lighter. Sam said that they'd made progress and Steve believed him. Steve had initially opposed the idea of grief counseling but had eventually warmed up to Sam.

He no longer walked home constantly looking behind his back. He didn't flinch whenever someone said 'Annie.'

Progress.

When he entered his apartment, he didn't jump when he realized someone was on the couch. Instead, he pressed his lips against Bucky's forehead as the man tried to sit up sleepily.

"Let's go to bed." He whispered as Bucky's head fell on his shoulder. He mindlessly ran his fingers through Bucky's hair, fingers lingering against a scar on his shoulder.

"Someone stabbed me in the back. Literally." Bucky mumbled against his neck. Steve smiled.

"What an asshole."

"I know, right?" Bucky said, yawning. Steve grabbed Bucky's hand and pulled until he was guiding him through the darkness into the bedroom.

Their bedroom.

In the corner of the wall, there was a paper taped a top the others. On it was a portrait, beautiful in its simplicity. The eye’s struck out amongst the other features, too blue but a lot happier.

 

**Author's Note:**

> And it's done! My longest fic that I've published!  
> Say hi on [Tumblr](http://romanoffses.tumblr.com) and [Twitter!](http://twitter.com/buckytears)


End file.
